BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!
The ticker-dinger-thinger shook the house. Neville opened one eye and stretched. For one tiny blissful moment he’d forgotten where he was and –
‘AARGH!’ Neville screamed suddenly as Rubella grabbed his ankle and dragged him out of her laundry pile.
‘Morning, you pookery little dungle droppin’,’ she said flatly. ‘I can’t wait to see what squibbly things you’ll be doin’ onstage today. Just think – Nev in front of hundreds and hundreds of trolls.’
‘NO!’ Neville whimpered. ‘Get off!’
Rubella swung Neville into the air and caught him under her arm like someone carrying a plank of wood.
‘LET ME GO, RUBELLA!’
‘Shut up, snot,’ she barked. ‘You’re going to have an absolunkly squibbly day at the theatre with winky ole me.’ Then she smiled a frightening smile and stormed down the stairs with Neville still tucked under her arm.
‘Mornin’, my actory types,’ Malaria said as Rubella reached the bottom step. Neville was flailing wildly, kicking and poking his troll-sister in her mammoth behind. He flailed so hard that one of his slippers flew off and landed in Malaria’s cooking pot with a SPLOOSH.
‘Oooh!’ Malaria chortled. ‘Thanks, Nev. That’ll make it taste delunktious. Who’s for a spot of something tummy-tinklin’?’
‘NO!’ Rubella barked as she clomped across the kitchen.
‘What about you, Nev?’
‘HE’S NOT HUNGRY,’ Rubella shot back at her mooma and pushed through the green curtain.
‘PLEASE, RUBELLA,’ Neville pleaded. ‘PUT ME DOWN.’
‘SHUT UP!’ She gave Neville a warning squeeze and he made a sound like a deflated bagpipe.
‘HOOOOOOOOF! ’
Rubella burst out laughing. ‘Maybe you could be an instrument in the band,’ she teased.
‘HOOOOOOOOF!’ Neville wheezed. ‘STOP IT RU– OOOOOOOF! LET ME GO – OOOOOOOF! I’M GOING TO BE S– OOOOOOOF!’
‘Hmmm,’ Rubella sighed contentedly. ‘This will be more fun than I thought.’ With that, she lumbered off towards the theatre, playing Neville like a human one-man band.
‘HOOOOOOOOF!’